


more than just a dream

by BerryliciousCheerio



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Disney AU, F/F, Robin Hood AU, tumblr prompt fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 16:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6996376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerryliciousCheerio/pseuds/BerryliciousCheerio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a funny story how this all started, really, it is.</p><p>or: hello nottingham, it's hero time</p>
            </blockquote>





	more than just a dream

**Author's Note:**

> "do you think maybe you could do something like princess!maya and robin hood!riley in disney movie style because i am a desperate child in need of more fic"
> 
> this started out as a prompt fill and then i blinked and it was 6k+ and i was crying
> 
> disclaimed

 

 

 

The door to Maya’s room creaks open.  She’s been up for hours anyway, so it’s not all too hard to snap upright in her bed, picking out a shadowy figure slipping in and easing the door closed behind them.

She recognizes the lean lines of the person’s body easily.  “Riley?” she whispers, throwing back the covers and sliding her feet out of her bed.

The other girl steps out of the shadows, what little moonlight that sneaks in through the curtains making her glow, or maybe that’s just the post-heist glow that Maya’s come to know so well.  “Hiya,” Riley grins as Maya scoots over, making space for her.  Her hands are suspiciously empty, though Maya knows that’s not really any indication as to how well the night went.

Riley crawls into bed beside her, nearly buzzing.  “Who’d you help tonight?” Maya asks, rolling to face her and lacing their fingers together.  There’s a scrape along Riley’s cheekbone, but she knows it’s useless to ask what happened.

“Family up in Rodding.  The—.”  Riley cuts herself off with a yawn.  “Their landlord started demanding more money because he knew they needed the wheelchair accessibility.”

Nodding, Maya brushes the hair out of Riley’s eyes.  “God,” she sighs.  “You’re basically a superhero, huh?”

Riley shrugs, movement slightly impeded by the fact that she’s currently stealing Maya’s covers to create a vigilante burrito.   _Punk_ , Maya thinks affectionately, forcing her way into Riley’s blanket bundle.  “Share,” she demands when Riley grumbles.  They’ve got a few hours left before sunrise, before Riley has to slip out and leave Maya cold and searching.  She refuses to spend those hours cold before she’s due.

 

 

**/**

 

 

So.  It’s a funny story how this all started, really, it is.

It started with two little girls who were maybe, sort of in love.  Maya was dirt poor, her bleak life in a tiny hamlet just north of the castle brightened by the actual sun that was Riley Matthews, tagging along with her parents as they swept in to do their best to help the maligned citizens.  Topanga, Riley’s mother, was a lawyer that offered her services pro bono; Cory, her father, was a teacher that offered tutoring to try and raise the overall literacy rate of Maya’s dirty poor community.  Topanga helped Maya’s mother, Katy, out of a jam with a corrupt constable; the girls played with blocks or colored with the pencils Riley brought with her and became best friends.

As they grew, so did their feelings.

They shared their first kiss the day that the High Prince Patrick came to town.  The middle brother of the royal family, his elder brother Jacob sat on the throne.  The prince ducked into the pub where Katy worked and told her to call him Shawn.

Maya became a princess not a year later.

But, you see, the funny part was they’d had plans before Maya’s roof didn’t leak and before she had tiaras and ballgowns and an honest-to-god castle to live in.  Back then, Maya didn’t have any options and her grandmother was sick and her mother kept skipping meals to make sure Maya never went to bed hungry.  Back then, Maya was desperate.

She and Riley used to daydream a lot; used to talk it through.  How they’d be the heroes that Nottingham and the surrounding hamlets needed, how they’d steal from the rich and give it back to the people whose backs the rich had stepped on in their climb to the top.

It was a little fatalistic, but they were twelve.

They lost touch for a while after Maya moved to the castle.  And then she was eighteen and taking a walk in the courtyard, her parents on one diplomatic trip or another, and an actual fucking arrow hurtled over the high walls and landed at her feet, sinking into the soft ground with ease.

She’d put it together pretty quickly when, the next day, Riley Matthews was in the receiving room, requesting an audience with the princess; she had callouses in the right spots on her hands, but it was still fun for Maya to lean in close to her and ask what interest she had in archery.

She’d like to say that they didn’t fall into bed immediately, but they absolutely did.

“I’m doing what we talked about,” Riley told her that night, behind the safety of the thick doors of Maya’s apartment.

Maya propped herself up on an elbow and watched her in the dim light of her room.  “What?”

Riley’s eyes finally met Maya’s, finally stopped admiring the paintings on Maya’s ceiling.  “My mother is in jail.  My father’s school got shut down.  Prince John did that, and then started raising my town’s taxes.  I couldn’t afford to keep the house.  Couldn’t afford to keep Auggie with me.”  Her voice broke on her baby brother’s name; Maya remembered the chubby cheeked infant from their youth.  RIley answers her question before she can ask it.  “He’s living in Hemshire with our great aunt.”

Maya’s first response was guilt, for never trying to find her, for not being able to stop this.  Her second response was also guilt.  The girl she’d been pining after for years just told her the saddest tale in the world, and she’s making it about herself?  The fuck?

She pulled it together quickly enough.  “Nottingham’s very own hero.”  

Riley blushed prettily, but her voice was serious when she spoke.  “I don’t want people to keep hurting like they have been.  Like we’ve been.”

For a moment, Maya thought that she only meant her family, but it hit like a train that she meant Maya too, that she hadn’t forgotten the dusty little girl from an obscure village, even when that girl was currently surrounded by opulence.

The warmth that hit her in response had her promising, “Anything you need.  Tell me.”

“That’s too conspicuous,” Riley demurred.  “Thanks though.”

“It’d be conspicuous if I started in on your shenanigans.”  Riley wrinkled her nose at Maya’s choice of words.  “But I don’t think moral support and sending a few friends to help you would be all that flashy.”

 

 

**/**

 

 

That was then.  It’s been a fair few months now, nearing a year that Maya’s been leaving her sitting room window unlocked and her bedroom door ajar, six months since she directed Little Lucas (an ironic name if there ever was) and Friar Farkle to Riley.  

Three months since her quasi-uncle Prince John sent taxes through the roof in the King’s absence.  Jacob’s on a peace seeking trip across an ocean.  Shawn and her mother have been touring the embassies across the continent, remote enough to be useless.  

Maya means that with love, of course.

But the matter still stands.  John’s been running the entire kingdom into the ground, ripping money from the sick and the destitute.  Maya has no sway, considering she’s only nominally a princess, that she stands to inherit a parcel of land and an honorary title but no real power.  He lords it over her, throwing sprawling, opulent parties in her home and driving her back into her apartment.

Maya likes to fight and it kills her that she can’t fight him.  That she can’t even join Riley in the subversive without raising red flags.

And on top of all that, Prince John makes it his mission to fuck with Maya as much as possible.  

“I’ve organized quite the to do,” he wheezes over breakfast, face already flush with the wine he’s consumed before noon.  “A tournament!”

Maya stifles a groan.  She’s been getting better at that, lately.

Silence reigns for a few precious minutes, during which time Maya attempts to eat her weight in bread.  Finally, the prince deigns to speak again.  “I believe it’s time to find you a husband, my dear.”

Maya’s about to roll her eyes when the seemingly unrelated subjects click.  “No,” she snaps.  “Absolutely not.”

Part of the perks of barely being a princess was always the fact that Maya wouldn’t be expected to marry politically.  Shawn had promised her that, with a notarized letter from the King as well.

But Shawn isn’t here.

“Oh calm down,” Prince John sighs, waving his hand as if to brush her off.  “It’s not a betrothal.”   _Because you don’t have the power to forge one_.  “Just a kiss to the winner!”

 _That’s not any better_ , Maya thinks bitterly.

She refuses to meet his eyes, instead focusing on shoving her food around her plate and thinking of all the ways she could get John into the stocks.  Maybe a frame job for murder?

“Don’t you want to know what the tournament’s going to be?”  He sounds absolutely delighted. 

“Not particularly,” Maya mumbles around a mouthful of eggs.

If he heard her, the prince doesn’t care.  “Archery!” he says, clapping his hands and jostling his wine glass, spilling all over his actual satin night clothes.  Maya tries to look sympathetic.

 

**/**

 

When Riley creeps into her room that night, Maya’s sitting at her desk, updating the ragged ledger she keeps of all Riley’s heists by candlelight, for, you know, ambience.  “The prince,” Maya says, rolling her eyes, “is hosting a tournament for my hand.”

“ _Ugh_.”  Riley flops onto her bed face first, kicking off her boots.  “He’s the worst.  What type?”

“Archery.”  Maya spins her chair around.  “I think that you should enter it.”

“Hmph?”

“The tournament.  I’m not exactly excited to kiss someone else _plus_ I think I’d love to watch John’s head explode when his plan doesn’t work out,” Maya  says, getting up to join Riley in bed.  “You’d smoke the competition, babe.”

Riley smiles sleepily, nodding.  “Probably,” she agrees, throwing her arm over Maya’s waist.  “It’d be fun to see him go purple.”

 

 

**/**

 

 

From her spot on the dais, Maya for once has the height advantage and is able to surreptitiously scan the crowd of archers, looking for her girl’s familiar frame.  She hasn’t spotted her yet, but there’s still a fair few minutes until the beginning of the tourney.  

Prince John sits in Shawn’s throne, preening and drinking from a ruby encrusted flask, no doubt paid for by the taxes of Nottingham.  His advisor, a slimy man that Maya only calls Hiss, stands at his side, eyes darting about, a reptilian smile in place.  

Maya drags her eyes away though she continues to throw mental daggers.  The crowds are buzzing, parting to let the suitors through.  They’re the regular lot; middle sons of mid level nobility that come around two or three times a year to offer a moderate dowry that Shawn regularly refuses.  They’re chomping at the bit now, sending furtive looks in Maya’s direction, looks that she returns with glares.  A few have the decency to look cowed.  The Sheriff of Nottingham leers at her from his place among the contestants; he was instated by the prince and has been angling for a courtship with Maya since his first day on the job.  

His gaze alone is enough to make Maya feel like she needs a shower.

“Attention,” Hiss murmurs into the mic, standing tall beside the prince.  “The tournament will begin shortly.  Archers at the ready.”

Maya watches as Lucas materializes from the forest, slipping in to join the suitors.  Farkle, the least involved in everything apart from Maya, watches from the sidelines.  The rest of Riley’s bandits, people Maya only knows by name and only knows are there because Riley herself told her they would be—they’re mingling with the spectators, as excited as Maya is to watch Riley beat everyone.

 _Well—_ Maya would be excited, if she knew what Riley would fucking look like.

Just as she thinks that, an awkward looking person wobbles out onto the field.  From her seat, Maya can see an overlarge hat and an equally overlarge mustache that obscures much of the mystery archer’s face, but she recognizes the grip on the bow.  Her heart does an altogether ridiculous little skip, though she schools her expression into one of carefully cultivated neutrality.

The archers parade past the royal dais, a few of the suitors trying to catch Maya’s eye even as she tracks Riley, and only Riley.  When she reaches her, Riley pauses and grins from behind the mustache.  She slides her sunglasses down with her free hand and meets Maya’s gaze steadily.  “My lady,” she says in the most ridiculous deep voice Maya’s ever heard.  “I beg your pardon, but it’s a great honor to be shooting for your favor.”  She offers Maya a flower that had previously been tucked into her shirt pocket and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.  “And pardon my saying this, but I do hope I win the kiss.”

“Well,” Maya says, taking the daisy and tucking it behind her ear.  “Pardon my saying this, but I do hope you win too.”

Riley nods, winking once before resuming her place in the parade.

Out of her peripheral, Maya sees Hiss narrow his eyes.  He leans away from the mic to whisper to one of the guards.  “Send up the drones.  I don’t want that _Robin_ _Hood_ ruining this.”  The guard nods, turning to pass the message along to the next guards and the next.  A fleet of cameras take to the sky a moment later, the feeds displayed on the tablet in the spaghetti arms of Hiss.

“Give me the microphone,” the prince whines, pawing at Hiss’s back.  He’s never reminded Maya of a child more.  When Hiss does as asked, Prince John crows, “Let the tournament begin!”

It goes well enough at first.

The only real contenders are Lucas, through merit of just not being awful, the Sheriff, through cheating, and Riley, through pure talent.  Round by round, suitors get picked off and Maya tries to keep her expression that of boredom and disinterest, even as her heart soars each time Riley lands a bullseye.  

Eventually Lucas gets dropped, leaving Riley and the Sheriff as the last two contestants.  The guard in charge of moving the targets back shoves it to the side to meet the Sheriff’s bow at the last second, earning a chorus of booing that only dies down when the guards start glaring at the bleachers, drumming their fingers on their swords.

The Sheriff leans over to say something to Riley, gloating no doubt.  He’s got a shit eating grin firmly in place as he claps Riley on the back.  Maya can’t hear them from her place across the field, but judging by how fast the Sheriff’s smile slips, she’s sure that Riley shot back something spectacular.

Riley notches her arrow just as the Sheriff’s expression turns stormy.  Maya watches in suspended disbelief as the older man trips into Riley, knocking her shot off course as she lets it fly.  It’s even more insane as she watches Riley notch and loose another arrow in the space of a breath, heading towards the tail of her first and knocking it back to it’s original, perfect course.

Her shot lands, splitting the Sheriff’s arrow down the center.

The crowd erupts in cheers, even the other suitors yelling their support.  Maya’s so wrapped up in screaming in an entirely unladylike way that she misses the look Hiss and John share.

“I invite the noble winner of the tournament to approach the court,” the prince purrs into the mic, “and collect the prize money and the lady’s kiss.”

Riley saunters over, high fiving a little boy that places himself in her path, bouncing on the balls of his feet.  When she nears the dais, she winks at Maya again before presenting herself to the prince.  “My liege,” she says in that over-exaggerated _man_ voice.

Prince John stands; unease slicks Maya’s throat as guards begin to shuffle towards the dais.   _Surely not_.

“Archer,” the prince wheezes.  “I commend you!  And because of your superior skill, you shall get what is coming to you.  Our royal congratulations,” he purrs, leaning in with a hand outstretched.  Riley moves to shake it.

Maya’s shout of warning gets lost in the din as the prince rips off the mustache and hat in one fluid movement, Riley’s tell tale hair tumbling down around her shoulders.

Prince John returns to his seat and waves a hand towards Riley, standing amidst a circle of well armed guards and out of Maya’s reach.  “Seize her,” he lazes.  

It’s not much of a fight, though Riley doesn’t go down without one.  The stands are empty, fights breaking out between spectators and guards.  Maya doesn’t pay that much attention, screaming too much and struggling to get over the edge of the dais in this godforsaken dress.  Hiss catches her around her waist, hauling her back from the railing as she throws elbows, crying, “You can’t do this!”

“My dear,” Hiss murmurs.  “She de—.”

Maya lands an elbow shot to his mouth, shutting him up and stunning him enough for her to scramble back to the railing.  “ _Don’t hurt her_ ,” she shrieks.

And then Riley’s restrained, tied up with rope.  “I sentence you,” Prince John howls, “to sudden, instant, and even _immediate_ death!”

“No,” Maya whispers, whipping around.  “No,” she says again, louder.  “Please,  your highness, show mercy—.”

The prince slouches in the throne, his crown slipping.  “My dear,” he slurs, “why should I?”

Maya searches for a bargaining chip, anything she can use.  She has no real sway beyond Shawn and the affection the King holds for his niece, but that’s not—.

Fuck it.

“I’ll be in your debt,” Maya offers.  “Deeply, truly indebted.  Forever.”

“Why such a to-do over the common criminal?  She’s hardly worth the time.”

Maya looks back at Riley, who’s still looking at her like she’s the sun.  “I love her,” she answers without turning back.  

The prince sputters.  “Her?”  Maya glances back to see his incredulous look turn to one of simple conniving.  “And does this lowly prisoner return the lady’s love?”

When Maya turns back to Riley, her eyes are wide and dark and wet.  They’ve never really said this before.  “I do, Peaches.  I love you more than life itself,” Riley says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.  Like there’s not a sword hanging over her at this very moment.

Their wonderful, insulated bubble is popped by the prince drawling, “Ah!  Young love!  Too bad you have to die now.  Traitors to the crown deserve no less!”

“That crown belongs to King Jacob!” Riley shouts.  “Long live King Jacob!”

The rallying cry takes.  Somewhere in the chaos, John signals the executioner.  “Off with her head!” he commands and Maya’s cold, everywhere.  There’s nothing she can do from here, no bargain or deal to be made.  She can’t even run to her.

The executioner begins his long march, halting abruptly when the prince lets out a strangled little cry.  “S-stop!  Stop!” he cries, sitting awkwardly and looking mightily uncomfortable.  Maya catches a glimpse of scarlet from behind the throne— _Lucas_ —and the prince wheezes, “H-hold your axe!  Release my frien—I mean, r-release the prisoner!”

The Sheriff looks up in disbelief from his newfound place beside Riley.  “What?” he huffs, still holding her rope ties.

Maya can’t help herself.  “You heard what he said, numbskull!” she shouts, leaning hard against the rail.  “Release her!”

“As the head—e-excuse me, interim head of state,” the prince swallows hard.  “I make the rules, Sheriff!  Let her go, for heaven’s sake, just let her go!”

The guards and the Sheriff have no choice but to drop Riley’s bindings and then she’s wriggling out and rushing the dais, Maya running to meet her.  “I sort of owe you my life,” Riley murmurs when they meet, pulling Maya close. 

“I—,” Maya starts, tightening her hold on Riley.  “I don’t think I could have lived without you.”

Someone nearby coos at them; Maya thinks it might be the executioner.  The fights in the stands die down enough that everyone around her relaxes.

Relaxes, that is, until the Sheriff gives up a loud cry from behind the dais.  “Why you—!” he yells, Maya turning in time to see his sword swing down at Lucas, who ducks at the last second, dropping the prince’s collar and slamming the butt of his sword into the Sheriff’s ugly face.

“Kill her!” John cries, no longer impeded by a pesky death threat.  “Kill them all!”  

The guards surge forward in a hurried, unorganized manner.  Lucas, booking it away from the now enraged Sheriff, tosses Riley her sheathed swords as he passes.  Shoving Maya back, Riley takes on three guards at once, besting the uncoordinated and undertrained men easily as Maya looks around for a weapon.  She’s been itching for a fight for months now and she’s not about to sit back and watch her fellow countrymen take on a fight that’s, like, forty percent her fault.

In her scanning of the chaos, Maya catches the glint of steel from the dais and shouts a warning to Riley, who turns in time to catch John’s sword between her own and twist, tearing it out of her hands.  “Care to join me?” she yells, kicking the blade across the grass to Maya, who snaps up the jewel encrusted weapon and quickly cuts away the excess fabric of her dress, glad that she had the forethought to wear leggings underneath.

“Thought you’d never ask,” she grins, joining Riley on the battlefield.

They and the other bandits fight for a good long while, with some of the stronger townspeople taking up large sticks and whacking guards on the ass to offer the bandits some reprieve.  Riley, in the heat of battle, manages to shout over her shoulder, “D’ya want to get married?”

“You could’ve picked something a little more romantic, I think.” Maya laughs back, parrying a blow.  

Riley presses back against her.  “What’s more romantic than life or death?”

Maya’s response gets lost when a path opens and Maya sees it, their way out.  “The forest!” she yells, blocking a guard’s thrust.  “Into Sherwood Forest!”

It doesn’t take long at all for their people to react, moving as one teeming mass of swords and fists towards the dark refuge of the forest.  Riley and Maya bring up the tail end, Lucas not too far in front of them, blocking arrows with his sword and a chair he grabbed on his way.  Farkle stays behind, herding a group of children out of the path of the Sheriff, barreling towards them with a murderous look on his face.  Riley ducks his strike with ease, sticking her foot out and tripping him before he can reorient himself to charge Maya.  

And with that, Maya grabs Riley’s hand and flees into the forest.

 

 

**/**

 

 

“So you’re one hundred percent sure this requires a grappling hook and climbing gear?”

Maya glances up from her blueprints, drawn from memory.  “Unless you can dig through stone.”

Riley pauses to inspect her nails, as if considering their digging abilities.  “Alright,” she sighs, resting her chin on Maya’s shoulder.  “Go over it again.”

“While Lucas lulls the warden to sleep and releases the townsfolk, you and I,” she says, twisting to punctuate her words with a kiss.  “You and I will climb up into the treasury and send bags of cash down to Zay and the others.  They’ll load up the van and be waiting for us when she rappel down.”

“Sounds easy.”

Someone coughs outside their tent.  “Come in,” Maya calls as Riley moves away from her, taking a half step back.  Not that everyone in camp doesn’t already know.

Lucas ducks into the tent, looking tense and wringing his hands.  “We’re still ready for tomorrow night?” Riley asks, dropping her hands onto Maya’s shoulders, more comfortable with PDA since it’s only Lucas.

“It—ah,” he breaks off, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Prince John had Farkle arrested.”  Riley’s fingers dig into Maya’s shoulders suddenly as Lucas explains, “He—uh.  They took the donation box from the hospital.  So he started a riot.”

At the very least, it’s a memorable as hell way to go.

But he’s _not_ gone, because this plan is going to work and Farkle’ll be back on the streets, farkling it up in no time.  Maya smooths down the corner of her blueprints and swallows hard.

 

**/**

 

There’s quite a bit of hand signaling happening as Riley makes it to the top of the treasury tower and Maya begins her ascent.  They’d worked out a handful of signals early in the planning stages, but Maya’s hands are shaking so much that she can’t manipulate them into the forms needed to respond.  Instead she offers a shaky nod, testing the tension of her rope once more before setting off. 

Lucas is behind them, securing the line to transport the money down to their van.  It’s his last job with them before he’s supposed to head to the prison, and as much as Maya razzes him, she’s comforted knowing he’s watching her six and doesn’t look forward to his whistle to let them know he’s leaving.  It comes soon enough, when she’s only halfway up the tower and focusing ninety percent of her attention on Riley at the top.  

And then it’s the two of them.  Zay and Charlie and Smackle are waiting just around the corner, in a blind spot in the cameras, ready to drive them away to safety once the heist is over.  But right here, in this moment, Maya’s world is narrowed down to Riley, and the way she’s smiling encouragingly at her.

She reaches the top, finally.  Riley drags her into the open window and steadies her when she stumbles.  Looking around, Maya nearly throws up.  Even as a literal princess, Maya’s never seen this much money and gold and other valuables in one place.  The treasury is a mix of ill-gotten taxes and the royal stores, tiaras next to people’s life savings.  

Pausing to catch her breath, Maya watches as Riley takes it in, watches the one emotion after another appear and then get neatly tucked away again.  “You ready?” Riley asks, looking back.  Maya nods, taking the hand that Riley offers her and straightening.

“Alright,” Maya breathes, giving Riley’s fingers a squeeze.  “Let’s do this.”

They move efficiently, a well oiled machine as they dance around one another and grab one bag of cash or jewels and then the next, sending them down the line.  “Sorry Jack,” Maya whispers, though she doubts the King will mind all that much; he, unlike his baby brother, actually cares about his citizens.

They pass over the crown jewels and royal heirlooms.  They both know the importance of history.

Riley freezes suddenly.  “The donation box,” she whispers urgently.  “It’s not here.”

“ _Shit_.”  

And then, like a cosmic sign, Maya hear’s Prince John and Hiss’s snoring from the adjacent room.  Riley looks up at the same time, their eyes meeting over piles of gold.  “He sleeps with it?”  Riley’s incredulous and Maya can’t blame her.  Prince John is one of the most ridiculous people Maya’s ever met, a child playing at being an adult and failing miserably.  She nods slowly.  “I’ll go,” Riley volunteers, already passing off her bag of stolen goods to Maya and heading for the door.

Maya lets out a quiet sound of protest, finding herself at a loss for words when Riley turns back to look at her.  “I—,” she starts, fiddling with the strap of the bag.  How is she supposed to say she doesn’t want to risk losing her again?  How is she supposed to keep it together when the very thought has her nearing tears?  “Be careful,” she finally settles on, reaching out to squeeze Riley’s hand, pressing as much love and protection as she can and hoping Riley understands.

She thinks she does, judging by the soft, slow smile Riley offers her before dropping her hand and slipping out.  

Maya rushes the rest of the bags, barely snapping the last one on the line and giving it a final tug before she’s following in Riley’s steps.  She’s only a few feet in the door of John’s room, inching her way around Hiss’s cot at the end of the prince’s bed and angling for the wooden box cradled in John’s arms.

It’s amazing to watch her, normally stumbling feet dancing lightly across the cold floor.  When she reaches the bed, she pauses, turning back to meet Maya’s eyes with a mischievous smile.  She turns back to the prince, gently edging his arm off the donation box and scooting it out from under the royal appendage.  

It’s in her arms and Riley’s sneaking back to join Maya in the doorway when Hiss wakes.  The prince slumbers on, sucking his thumb as Hiss looks around sleepily, instantly alert when he spots them backing out of the room.  “ _Thieves_!” he shrieks, startling the royal baby out of his royal baby slumber.

Maya doesn’t feel like sticking around to watch what she assumes is hilarious chaos.  She grabs Riley’s free hand and books it back towards their exit strategy.

“God,” she pants as they struggle to get the chest secured to Riley before their climb down.  “I hope Lucas’s end was slightly less eventful.”

Riley lets out a sharp bark of laughter, hooking Maya in and shoving her out the window.  She’s in a free fall for a second before her line goes taut, giving her back some semblance of control as she watches riley throw herself out the window after her.  

She takes a moment to admire her ass before she takes in the chaos below them.

Guards are zipping to and fro, scrambling for their crossbows and swords and looking for the enemy, not thinking to look up.  Maya breathes a sigh of relief as she watches the last school bus they commandeered for this excursion pull away from the castle gate.  At the very least, the wrongfully imprisoned will have escaped, even if she and Riley go down.

Which they very well might.  The guards have caught a glimpse of them sliding down the tower’s exterior.

Luckily, they’re not the A-team.  They’re barely the D-team.

In the time it takes for the first wave to arrange their crossbows, Maya’s feet have hit the ground, Riley following not long after.  They shed their rappelling gear in a flash, Riley’s long legs taking her past Maya quickly.  She grabs her hand and pulls her along and it’s a goddamn miracle that Maya doesn’t stumble with how fast they’re running.  

Prince John bursts out, screaming for the guards.  “Get them!” he shrieks, pulling at his hair, his doughy face gone purple.  “And get my _money_!”

They hit the castle gate just as one of the perimeter guards cuts the rope holding it up.  In a second, Riley’s pushed the donation box into Maya’s arms and shoved her through, urging her, “Don’t worry about me!  Just get out of here!”

Maya hesitates.  Riley pulls her forward by the collar of her shirt and kisses her with enough force to bruise before shoving her back again.  “ _Go_!”

Maya runs.

 

 

**/**

 

 

She’s inconsolable for weeks.  Lucas tries.  Farkle tries.  Zay tries.  Even Smackle tries, patting Maya’s shoulder in a awkward attempt at comfort.  She tells them all that she won’t believe it until she sees a body.

“Maya,” Lucas says again, rubbing her back.  “She went into the moat.”

She screams at him until he leaves.

One night, weeks later once Lucas stops keeping someone on her 24/7, Maya goes back to the castle.

The treasury and the apartments attached to it are burned out.  Some part of her boils at the thought of John staying in Shawn’s apartment, in her’s, the room she shared with a hero.

A larger part of her keeps thinking _a helluva way to go_.

The castle is quiet as she walks the courtyard.  There’s a bow near one of the high wall’s turrets, dropped by a guard in a hasty escape.  It’s not balanced right, she knows, but it does it’s job well enough, Maya’s arrow flying true and burying itself in the hay bale that served as the warden’s seat outside the castle prison.

From somewhere behind her, a familiar voice teases, “Don’t tell me you’ve replaced me already?”

The bow hits the ground with a muted thud.

Maya’s already running by the time she’s fully turned towards Riley, colliding with her at full speed.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, burying her face in Riley’s hair.  “Honey, how—?”

Riley peppers her face with kisses, pausing only to say, “You sort of said you’d marry me, Peaches.”  She kisses her fully and adds when she pulls back, “Couldn’t let you break a promise.”

“You’re such a dor—!”  

Of all the ways she’s been cut off, being kissed by her best friend is maybe her favorite.

 

 

**/**

 

 

“After you, princess,” Riley demurs, stepping aside and flashing Maya a blinding smile.

Maya mirrors her, insisting, “No, no!  After _you_ , princess.”

From behind them, Auggie groans.  “Would the both of you just _move_?  I’ve got a date after this!”  Maya looks back to see his exasperatedly affectionate expression, no real bite in his words even as he rolls his eyes.

Topanga thumps his shoulder, shooting Maya a _what can you do?_ smile, one that she returns in kind as Riley starts tugging her out of the church because apparently someone’s giving out bubble bottles.

The wedding procession finally resumes, the exuberant guests crowding the sides of the walk out of the church, everyone blowing bubbles and shouting their congratulations.  Maya snags a couple of bottles of the bubbles from Lucas, who beams from the side, arm securely around Farkle who looks equally pleased.  The recently promoted head of security, Charlie Gardner himself opens the door of their carriage.

Maya helps Riley pile in, catching the train of her dress before it has a chance drag in the dirt.  She hikes up her own skirt, about to hop in when she hears her parents’ voices and she turns back the church in time to see Shawn and her mother catching up with the Matthews and exchanging hugs.  In the time since their return and the Matthews revival, the couples had become fast friends, with Katy and Topanga even joking that Shawn and Cory were better suited to each other.

It sent a wave of warmth through Maya to see her— _their_ family so happy.  The King follows closely, clapping Cory and Shawn on their backs and letting out his famous belly laugh, looking lighter than he had since he returned to his kingdom in shambles.

The weeks after Riley’s return hadn’t been easy.  They were living on the run with no way of contacting the outside world, relegated to the safety of the Forest.  Finally, the news they were waiting for passed through the grape vine and made it’s way into the heart of the woods.   _King Jacob has returned.  Prince John and his cohorts have been imprisoned._ _High Prince Patrick and his consort search for their daughter._

Theyventured out of the Forest not long after, greeted as heroes.  

There was no question after that; Shawn signed off on Riley and Maya’s marriage without hesitation, her mother with only the whispered, “And she makes you happy?” standing between them and her complete support.  King Jacob followed suit, teasing Maya gently about taking after the family in their preference for strong women.  “We’ll make a queen out of you yet,” he had joked, though the next day he had rewritten the order of succession, recognizing Maya as a legitimate heir.

As the King catches her eye now, Maya realizes that had been the plan all along.  To allow her the freedom to fall in love and marry as she wished and then to slide her and her line into succession.

Zay, from his place beside Smackle at the front of the well wishers snaps her out of her epiphany.  “Are you _ever_ getting in?  I think the missus is getting a little impatient there, Princess.”  He gestures to Riley, who’s come forward to rest her chin on top of Maya’s head.

“Yeah Princess,” Riley prods, poking Maya’s cheek.  “You coming?”

One last look to drive home that everyone they love is safe, happy.

“Yeah,” Maya says turning and pulling herself into the carriage.  She grins wide at Riley.  “I’m here.”

 

 

 


End file.
